The Man with No Face
by Gchan-sama
Summary: Takes place a few weeks after the events of the movie. Erik finds himself on a new adventure.
1. Default Chapter

The Man With No Face. 

Author's Notes: Well...I wrote a fanfic. First time in months that I've been inspired enough to test my creative juices out. I haven't read the book so they're based on the movie. So why this movie and not say an anime one like I usually do? I don't know...oh well. Anyway, be respectful, even if you think the story is full of crap.

Viola was returning to the convent from her round of daily errands when among the road she noticed something unusual with the trash. It wasn't odd for beggars and drunks to find refuge with the garbage; what was unusual was that the man was wearing rather fine clothes. The rich, Viola learned in her life, usually stuck to their own kind and only ventured to this end of town when looking for a good time. Viola looked at the man with curiousity and dread.  
What if he's dead? What if he isn't? What if he's a madman? Then she saw his chest rise. She sighed in relief and thought, Thank God.  
"Monsieur", she bent down to her knees and touched him on the shoulder, "It is not safe to sleep here." The man began to moan and stir. "Christine" he moaned.  
"There is no Christine here." She answered him. "I'm Viola." The man sat up and straightened up what appeared to be a mask. He kept his back to her as he adjusted himself. He was actually quite handsome; the mask and clothing gave him an exotic air. His hair was almost black. All he had on was a black coat, white shirt and black pants. He looked around at his surroundings and then at Viola. Viola suddenly had a strange feeling about him.  
"Where am I?" The man asked, "How on earth did I get here?" "You're in the west side of Paris" Viola said. "As for how you got here, I don't know." The man looked confused at first as he rubbed his head. Viola couldn't see any marks or wounds on him; however, even if he did, he wouldn't let her near him. "Are you all right?" She asked, "Maybe you should go see a policeman." "No". For a minute, the man took a deep breath. He looked hard at Viola. He winced in pain as he held his chest. "Monsieur" Viola said, "You're hurt." "I'm fine." His eyes pierced a hole into her as he stared at her hard. She felt nervous. "I am fine. If you excuse me, I will be on my way. I am very sorry for your trouble, Mademoiselle." He started to walk away and sunk to his knees in pain. Viola rushed to help him.  
"Sir" Viola became alarmed. "Please come with me. I can get you help." "No doctors" He growled. He continued to resist her until pain won out in the end. People began to look at them.  
"Come on" Viola held onto him. "You need a doctor to look at whatever is ailing you. Then...you can be free." "Freedom" He sighed. "A demon is never truly free." "That's a funny thing to say" They began to walk, the short and petite girl holding a six foot man. "Are you a poet?" The man just remained silent.  
"Do you remember anything about how you got here?" She asked him. The man nodded but remained silent. "Well" She smiled, "At least your wife will be relieved that you're fine." He had such a sorrowful look on his face that Viola felt instantly guilty for bringing it up. "I'm sorry" She apologized. "I tend to talk too much when I meet people. My mother always used to say that it would lead me to trouble one day. 'Viola' she would say, 'It's nice that you are friendly to everyone but you're naive.'" "Your mother was a smart woman" The man said, "There are dishonorable men out there waiting for a chance to take advantage of a young lady like yourself." He stared at her again.  
"Like you?" Viola asked. "Believe me Monsieur...I can take care of myself." He stopped suddenly in the middle of the street and said in an annoyed voice, "What do you want from me?" "Nothing" Viola replied. "You seemed out of place here. Usually the only time I see the gentlemen like you is when they either are robbed, drunk, eager for a whore's company or a combination of all three." "Out of place" He began to sigh sadly, "I'm a man without a home." He winced. He saw her looking at him again and turned away.  
"So" Viola began again, "What's your name?" "I don't have a name." She laughed, "Everyone has a name." They came upon the front door of a convent. The man just looked completely lost. "Here we are" Viola took out a key and opened the door, "This is Saint Germaine's." She went inside. "Most of the sisters are all at the morning Mass right now. The servants aren't all here yet. They're usually pretty quiet though." The man stepped inside and looked around. "You're a nun" He said quietly.  
"No" Viola smiled, "I'm too sinful to become a nun. I just work here as a housekeeper. I've been a housekeeper here since I was 14." She led him to a small study. "I study music and art at the Sorbonne. The sisters here just give me room and food." She made him sit down at a desk. "I'll be right back. The doctor for the convent lives next door. Just stay here and don't make a sound." She edged her way back out, leaving the man there to grow more lost in thoughts.


	2. Chapter 2

2. Things Come to a Pass 

HE had sworn that he had been dead; he couldn't feel anything at all in his body. He had been out

on the streets of Paris ever since that night weeks ago hiding underground in the catacombs until he

couldn't stand to be hungry any longer. The youths approached him as he walked out of the cafe. At

first, the youths began calling to him, asking him for change, until he refused. Then they grew angry;

they grew angrier when they saw the mask. The last thing he remembered before blacking out was

how bright the sun was shining.  
_I should've stayed down below. This demon does not deserve light._ When he finally came to,

he saw a female face looking down at him. "Christine" He muttered. Once he grew more conscious

and rubbed his eyes, he realized that the girl before him was not her. She could definitely pass for a

relative; she had similar features to Christine, only she possessed auburn hair and a small splotch of

freckles. She was also rather innocent and too chatty for his tastes. Before he knew it, he found

himself in pain in the library of a local convent closeby.

_What was her name again?_he thought. _Her name is Viola_. Mademoiselle Viola had gone to

retrieve a doctor to look at him. He took a random brown leathered book off the shelves and began

to thumb thru it when a cheerful voice interupted his thoughts. "Can I help you Monsieur"

"I'm waiting for someone" He said quickly, glaring at her. "Mademoiselle Viola.

"Oh" A young nun stood in the hallway, smiling cheerfully. She was a novice no doubt. "Viola's

very sweet and a good worker. She is like family here to us all." She looked at the book in his

hands. "You like poetry?" He looked at the title of the book. The author's name was Whitman.

"He's very good" The nun came closer, "He's an American living in someplace called New Jersey"

All he could was nod politely while in his head he wanted to scream, _Don't come any closer!  
_

"I'm back!" He heard her familar cheery voice. "I tracked down Dr. Colville. He's the doctor who

usually takes care of the nuns-" She stopped when she saw the nun with him. With her was a tall,

dark blonde man, who looked like the Vicomte dressed in white.

"Oh Viola" The nun looked at her, "Your friend and I were just talking poetry"

"Sister Rosetta" Viola began, "I think they're looking for you over in the chapel"

"I was just on my way over there now" Rosetta gave the man a friendly nod. He kept his eyes to

the floor. Suddenly, he felt pain in his chest as he winced as the novice left.

"Viola told me what happened to you" Dr. Colville said sympathetically. He took out his

stethoscope from the black leather bag he had but down on the desk. "This is going to be cold at

first." He made the man unbutton his shirt and placed the instrument on his chest. The man jumped at

first, like a cat, but then calm down.

"Sounds all right" The doctor said. He examined the man more closely as Viola watched quietly

from the door. The man winced more as the doctor touched a certain spot. "Your ribs might be

broken" Dr. Colville said. "You'll need to rest for a week"

"Impossible" The man protested. "I have business to attend to." He also had no where to go but

back to the catacombs.

"I'm sure if you contact your associates it can wait" The doctor said. "Please Monsieur"

"I shall be fine." He said again. The last thing he intended to do was take pity from some doctor and

some dimwitted street waif. She was just staring at him with sympathy in her eyes.

_I can not take her stares_. He thought, _I can not stand that look of sympathy she bears_ "Well"

Dr. Colville handed him a small brown envelope, "at least take these three times a day with water.

They are to help you with the pain. If you have cold meat or ice around your home, I suggest that

you put that against you as well to keep the swelling down." He looked to Viola and said, "There's

nothing more I can do for your friend, Mademoiselle"

"I'll see you out" Viola said as she left him alone in the room once again. The man buttoned up his

shirt and sighed. He could hear some bits of conversation between the girl and the doctor but

couldn't make out what was said. Ten minutes later, the girl returned with a smile on her face again.

"You can stay here" She said, "until you get better. Sometimes the sisters will let travelers or

boarders stay here. Do you know anything about carpentry"

He nodded.

"Oh good" Viola said with relief. "Because the organ that the sisters use for the services isn't working properly"

"Then you need a repairman" He sighed. "That has nothing to do with carpentry"

"Well actually it does" Viola said. "Because the railings on the steps are kind of old." She looked at

him. "There's a whorehouse six buildings down if you'd rather stay there. Some of the girls are all right... the woman who runs it is really nice"

"No" He sighed. All he would want is a woman who looked like Christine and once they knew the

truth about him, they would for sure turn him in to the police. "I don't have any tools through with

me"

"Don't worry" Viola smiled, "Leave everything to me"

Fini.

Author's notes: If you got this far, then good for you. I thank you very, very much. Viola and the nuns belong to the author. The Phantom and Christine belong to Laroux. However, for visual purposes, we're going to use Gerard Butler's Phantom. Hope this is better formatted than the other chapter.


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